Memento
by piper maru duchovny
Summary: Emma keeps a piece of every person she loves and Snow's been wondering about this one for awhile. - s4 compliant, mentions of Wooden Swan.


**This is my canon compliant fix it for my broken Wooden Swan heart. Also, it's a fix for my Mama Snow addiction. **

**Disclaimer: I obviously own nothing or the show we all know and love would look much different.**

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><p>The boys were in the kitchen when she walked in the door; Henry cracked an egg and Pinocchio had his legs curled under him on the stool so he could lean over the bowl to stir the mixture together. She gave a small smile as she hung up her coat and walked over to greet them, running a hand through Henry's hair. "Hey kid. What ya up to?"<p>

"Grandma is helping me and Pinocchio make some cookies," he explained.

Henry and the smaller boy had struck up a quick friendship since his transformation and while it warmed Emma's heart to see her son finally making friends it also broke hers. She forced a smile and ruffled the red curls that sat atop the younger boy's head. "You hangin' out with us tonight?"

"He is," Snow answered for him as she came into the room with Neal on her hip. "His father and Archie have some things that need tended to and so Henry suggested that Pinocchio come over. We're making cookies and then watching movies until dinner time. Would you like to join us?"

"Nah," Emma said softly as she reached out to stroke her baby brother's plump cheek, offering a halfhearted smile to her mother. "I've got some stuff to take care of so I'll be upstairs. Call me down when those cookies are ready?"

"They're double chocolate chip," Pinocchio informed her with an all too familiar grin.

She took a steadying breath and offered him another smile. "Then I definitely cannot wait to try one."

Before anyone could say another word to her, she turned on her heel and darted up the stairs to her bedroom.

Snow waited until she heard the customary door slam that always seemed to convey her daughter's temperament that day (today was less of a slam and more of click which broke something in her heart). She offered the boys a smile and crossed the room to place her son in his playpen; once he was settled, she turned back to Henry and kissed his head. "Keep following the directions, okay? I'm going to go upstairs and talk to your mom for a few minutes but I should be back down before they go in the oven. Call for me if your uncle starts to fuss?"

"Sure, Grandma," Henry promised as he helped Pinocchio measure out the sugar.

Convinced that they weren't going to burn down the apartment in the next ten minutes, she turned and followed her daughter's path up the stairs to where she knocked quietly on the door. She knew that something was wrong and she had an inkling that it had to deal with some things she had gleaned during her time as Mary Margaret. She knocked gently before pushing the door open to find her daughter on the floor in front of her closet with a leather jacket clutched to her chest. Snow sighed and softly crossed the room to kneel before her daughter. "You miss him, don't you?"

"He's downstairs in the kitchen," she answered with a sniffle.

"Pinocchio is, August's not."

"I just..." Emma tried to speak but just ended up shakily sniffling. She wrapped the jacket around herself and reached into the closet to pull out the box that contained the boy's typewriter.

"I was wondering what his was."

Emma's brow furrowed. "His what?"

"Memento," Snow explained as she carded a hand through Emma's hair, curling a golden lock around her finger. "You have the swan necklace and dream catcher from Neal and the flowers that Walsh gave you on your first date." She breathed deeply as she ran her hand over the leather around her daughter's wrist. "Graham's bootlace. You carry pieces with you, bits and pieces of everyone you loved. I was wondering what you kept of August."

"I didn't," she trailed off. It would be a lie.

"You did, Emma." Snow pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I know that you two shared something special; he opened you up again after Graham died, he made you smile again."

"I told Killian that every man I have ever loved died," Emma said quietly. "Neal, Walsh... Graham. I didn't include August because, really, he's sitting downstairs in my kitchen making cookies with my son."

"But he's not."

Emma shook her head as she fought to keep the tears at bay. "August died that day on the sidewalk, sacrificing himself for me, for all of us."

"He did."

"And I loved him."

"You did."

The tears started to fall freely then and Snow wrapped her daughter in her arms while she was wracked with sobs. Emma's life had been so full of pain and she wished with all her heart that she could take it away, carry the burden for her.

"I know he's not coming back," Emma told her with a sniffle. "And I think... I think that I could really love Killian. But I miss August. More than anything, he was my first best friend besides you. Even if we had never ended up as anything else, he was my friend. And he tried so hard to make me believe. Tried so hard to make up for leaving me even though he was just a little kid, barely more than a baby himself."

"Killian, no one really, will blame you for missing him, sweetheart." Snow pushed the hair back from her face and kissed her head. "Keeping it all bottled up inside doesn't make it better."

"But he's sitting downstairs in my kitchen and I can't... I can't miss him when he still alive, still looking at me with the same grin, even if he doesn't remember me. Even if all I am to him is Henry's mom."

"I think you're more than that," she told her. "Even now."

A knock came on the door and the redheaded little boy stepped inside with a plate in hand. "You were up here for a while," he explained. "So Henry and I made the cookies and we did not burn them or the apartment."

Emma sniffled a laugh as her mother outright chuckled.

Pinocchio crossed the room and held the plate out to Emma. "You seemed sad but Henry said these cookies are your favorite so I thought maybe having the very first one would cheer you up."

"Thanks, Pinocch." She accepted the plate and ruffled his hair with a small but very real smile.

Her smile was rewarded with the little boy charging her; his arms locked around her neck and she almost fell backward as he hugged her intensely for a few seconds before stepping back and awkwardly stuffing his hands in his pockets. "You've got a real pretty smile, Sheriff Swan."

"Emma," she corrected him. "And thanks."

"Emma," he agreed as he turned on his heel and walked away from her like August had after their first encounter in Storybrooke but he paused at the doorway and turned back to her with a grin. "Emma, will you sit with me during the movie?"

"Sure," she told him and the little boy's face broke into the biggest grin before he slipped out the door.

Snow nudged her with a goofy grin on her face. "Told ya."

"Shut up. He's eight!"


End file.
